


Drinks Bring Back Memories

by ClassicKaze (Kazewrites)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Based on a Maroon 5 Song, Drabble, Drinking, Drunk Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fanfiction, Historical, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Memories, Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 17:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21165383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazewrites/pseuds/ClassicKaze
Summary: Crowley drinks to forget all his time spent with Aziraphale as what happened at St James Park in 1862 grows further away in time.





	Drinks Bring Back Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I heard Memories by Maroon 5 and the lyrics, to me, just seemed to fit the ineffable husbands post 1862, especially Crowley. I don't have a set time for it but it's obviously pre 1941.
> 
> So I started writing this and putting in the lyrics. I like writing fics with lyrics mixed in. The lyrics are in italics.
> 
> I'm sorry about the over use of pronouns but I didn't want to use names. I hope it's not too confusing. Enjoy!
> 
> This is unbeta'd so hopefully not many mistakes.

_ There's a time that I remember, when I did not know no pain. When I believed in forever, and everything would stay the same. _

He hadn't meant to get drunk. But the plethora of empty bottles of Merlot littered around begged to differ. Swishing the wine carelessly around in the glass, he hummed while outstretched on the bed.  


He'd started drinking to forget.  


Forgetting Rome. Their first date. Well in his eyes. Watching him gush about how amazing the oysters were.  


They'd spent time seeing plays in the amphitheaters. He'd been so pleased about teaching the young Emperor how to play the violin. Sampling fine wine made in the lush Greek vineyards.

_ The drinks bring back all the memories. _

He hadn't meant to get drunk. But the wine seemed to continuously flow like a damn miracle. Bottles which once lay empty suddenly full again even though he still lay inebriated.

He'd started drinking to forget.

Forgetting The Globe. That insanely happy grin watching that boring play. Why couldn't it have been one of the funny ones?

But for that smile he would have watched 100 boring Shakespeare plays.   


Forgetting France. How ridiculous that outfit was. Though he'd never admit how gorgeous he'd looked. The excited tone of his voice saying his name even with the following eye roll. The lovely lunch which followed, seeing him, again, simply smitten about food. Those damn crepes.  


How had he even known he was there? Taking a sip he pressed his lips together. Oh right, overheard the guards talking about a prissy English Nobleman. He chuckled while emptying the bottle into his glass.

_The drinks bring back all the memories_

Forgetting their fateful meeting in St James; how nervous he'd felt asking for something so risky. Forgetting about fraternizing_; _truthfully his reaction shouldn't have come as a surprise. But the word. That instance of anger on both of them; the hurtful words. Forgetting about him storming off. He'd assumed they'd talk again, that he'd come to his senses and help.  


I mean after all he'd done for him. It was only insurance. It wasn't like he was getting beheaded.

_Of everything we've been through_

That was over 60 years ago. Maybe more, time had been a bit wibbly wobbly lately.

He'd started drinking to forget how lonely these past years had been. Without the warm soft aura of kindness to balance out his darkness. How he felt a bit closer to heaven than hell when they'd meet. Even if he was tempting. No strolls through the park to feed the ducks; no fudging reports to head office so he could spend more time with him. No Albert Hall, faking being asleep through it just to annoy him.

_ Everybody hurts sometimes _

_ Everybody hurts someday _

No old bookshops. The smell of lamplight mixed with aged scotch floating with the delicate dust of first editions and scrolls miraculously saved from Alexandria. No more hissing at customers wanting to make purchases. No more soft smiles of thanks.

_ Now my heart feel like December when somebody say your name _

_ 'Cause I can't reach out to call you, but I know I will one day. _

He hadn't meant to get drunk. Most of the time he drank they were together. Spilling wine which never stained the floor. Bickering over whose turn it was in the arrangement. Laughing at something stupid one of their superiors had said.  


Drinking used to be fun. Drinking used to help him forget.

_ The drinks bring back all the memories _

Now all it brought was pain. Memories of thousands of years of friendship no amount of wine would flush away. It brought isolation, his own personal Hell which had nothing on the real one.

_ And the memories _

He'd slept, he'd drank, anything to forget. Forget all the painfully wonderful memories of their time together. 

_Bring back memories_

He hadn't meant to get drunk. He'd started drinking to forget. But the drinking brought back memories.

_ Bring back you   
_

"Aziraphale." He whispered before angrily throwing the glass against the wall; shards shattering onto the floor.

He hadn't meant to get drunk, especially alone. He wanted to forget but he couldn't. He would never.  


Forgetting would bring the most pain.

_ Everybody hurts sometimes _

_ Everybody hurts someday,  _

_ But everything gon' be alright _

_ Go and raise a glass and say... _

"We'll meet again."

  
  



End file.
